Her Knight
by Mango of Angst
Summary: Why? Why was she doing this? It wasn't right. He was not her knight. Something had to be done. Rated for a little light language and potential later, well...
1. The Writing

A/N: I wrote this in my AP English class today. All of it. So if it sucks, that's why. I had to look like I was doing something productive. It was an interesting idea, though. Perhaps I'll go back and edit it and make it better later. I don't own FFVIII, though maybe if I did, I would've beaten it by now.

There was just far too much left unsaid for them to continue this way. It wasn't right. She knew she cared for him, maybe was even beginning to love him, but it wasn't right. He was too caught up in his dreams to pay her any attention. It was almost as if she were just there for appearances. An accessory rather than the vital part of him she wished to be.

Even his kisses had begun to feel empty, out of habit rather than out of love. And this positively shook her. _Where did all the feeling go?_ she wondered. _Was it my father and his station which brought him to me rather than…me?_

Yet when she stood back and looked at it, she wasn't certain at all why she even continued to deal with him. He pushed others around and used them however he pleased. He never bothered controlling his temper or his tongue. Long story short, he was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. But the way he held her when they were alone in the beginning, when he wasn't chased by some dream or expectation of the Garden or his reputation -when he was _hers_- made her just positively melt from the inside out. And for a while, she was happy. She was perfectly content to just be held for hours, talking or in silence; it didn't matter to her. The joy in his arms around her was perfect. It was when he let go that things changed. He became the person everyone else knew. And all he spoke of was his damned dream. And all those two that followed him like puppies did was encourage him. They agreed with his every word. She was fairly certain they did so because they would have no one else if he were to discard them. So they shared his dream and the ceaseless ramblings that accompanied it. That, and taking every available opportunity to irritate and belittle the silent student who seemed to be his polar opposite. Why he hated him so much she didn't know. Perhaps there was just something between them that one from outside the Garden could never understand, some piece of their past that was beyond her. Something he wasn't telling her.

On further examination, she found that this rather irritated her. Every second sentence out of his mouth was 'knight this' and 'knight that' when he was around the others. He was two different people, one for her, one for them. She hated that. Could he not just be _her_ knight? Be there when she needed him? Just be the person that she alone saw in those quiet hours, all the time? The heart fell within her chest, each beat telling her what she already knew. And a single hot tear made its way down her cheek as she felt the others following.

"I'm so sorry, Seifer," she whispered, rising from her writing table as she folded the letter she had written in the space of her musings. "I'm so sorry…"

A/N: So then, if you liked it, or think I need to edit the heck out of it, please take the time to tell me. Thanks.


	2. The Reading

A/N: This chapter was harder to write than the other. And I'm not quite certain I nailed that ending like I'd wished. Those of you that like it, don't worry; there's at least another chapter coming. Really. I have the end sentence written already.

He got the letter just before his field exam. But he didn't open it. Just tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat and continued on his way. He knew it was from her; the lightly rose-scented paper and delicate scrawl of his name gave that much away, but he didn't have time to read it just then. He was the leader of Squad B for what was his third and final shot at being a SeeD. His last shot at following his dream…well, the dream of the Garden. His dream lay elsewhere, as the Sorceress's Knight. _Does it?_ he wondered briefly, reaching his hand into his jacket. Still walking, he pulled out the letter and began to read it.

_My Knight,_

_I hope this doesn't reach you at too bad of a time. I know you have exams soon and you're going to be training. Chances are you won't read this until after the field exam anyway. _

He smiled, throwing a quick glance around to see that no one saw. The halls were deserted, as everyone was busy studying or equipping themselves for the upcoming exam, but still. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. She knew him too well.

_I had intended to see you at the ball, but then I thought that would be the worst possible time for this… _

He stopped. _What?_ he thought, sitting down on the nearest bench to continue. A sick feeling was building in the pit of his stomach.

…_and I just couldn't wait any longer. It has been too long already. I don't know how to say this, but…well, I'm really glad we've been together. I love the way you look at me when it's just the two of us, like that first night under the stars…you were shaking, remember? Just couldn't seem to figure out what to say. But I suppose it worked, and here we are._

His mouth twitched a little in recognition of the memory, but his eyes were still darting over the letter as though trying to read the paper itself. _Suppose?_ he questioned, the sickness settling further in. His heart began to beat rapidly, and he ceased to notice anything else around him. It had become him, the letter, and the gentle echo of her voice in his mind as silently he read her words.

_But, my dear, that is what I need to tell you. You only look at me like that when we are alone. I…I can't handle that any more. _

And his heart stopped. He stared blankly at the paper for a moment before he was able to think enough to finish the letter.

_I need you. But you, it seems, do not need me. You have your dream, and it is more than enough for you. _

Here a single teardrop had blotched the page, standing out from all the words around it. _Rinoa…crying?_ He had never known her to cry. Throw tantrums, sure. But not to cry.

_It is not my knight you wish to be. Where is my knight? Hiding in those private moments? Are you afraid? I'm sorry…I really am. But I cannot do this any longer. It isn't right. _

_I'm sorry._

_-Your Princess_

Something stung at the back of his eyes and, blinking furiously to clear it, he felt an anger rise within him, burning away the sorrow he just wouldn't feel. Looking around, he saw the students beginning to fill the halls again, and he crushed the letter in his fist, preparing to throw it into the fountain behind him. But the angered lover paused, looking at the frail thing held in his hand, and stuffed it instead back in his pocket as he heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"TEST." The statement was simple and to the point, as usual, and it reminded him of what he had all but forgotten in her revelation. Plastering his face once more with his public mask, he turned to see the remainder of the Disciplinary Committee standing behind him.

"Yeah…we just wanted to say good luck, ya know?" He scoffed.

"Save that for someone who needs it," he spat back, turning again to swagger in his usual way to the rendezvous point designated for the day's examinees, knowing he would be followed. _How dare she…_The anger turned cold, burning still with a ferocity he knew would serve him well in battle. _She'll see…_

* * *

It was there at the ball that he saw her next. He was even angrier than he had been that morning, having afterwards failed his field exam. Which he also blamed on her. That meant he really wasn't supposed to be at the ball, but he had come anyway, intimidating the underclassman waiting at the door to check invitations, because he knew she would be there. He was determined to show her that he could be her knight. He took it as a personal challenge. 

Glancing around the ballroom at all the SeeDs and instructors and other guests, he couldn't help but feel the twang of jealousy that shot through him. _My dream, and I am the one to not achieve it. _His gaze fell upon a lone, dark-haired figure leaning against the far wall. _Even he got in. And the chicken-wuss, too!_ A movement through the dancing couples caught his eye, and downing his flute of champagne in one go, he watched it with interest. His heart began the familiar race as he recognized her raven hair, her quickly graceful pattern of movement which gave her away as a child of privilege. _That was the dress from…_his mind drifted through the memories and he felt a pang that he quickly buried, grabbing a fresh drink. He watched her all the way across the dance floor as she confidently wove between couples whirling elegantly in time with each other as though part of some gigantic clockwork toy. He looked away, out the windows for a few moments as he thought briefly of the last time they had danced like one of them.

Another song started up, and downing his champagne, he scanned the floor again for her. _Yeah, dance with her...show her you can be her Knight..._ But then he saw her, dancing as best she could with the partner she had. As he recognized that partner, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he involuntarily crushed the glass in his fist.

_Squall…_

A/N: I almost forgot! I'd also like to thank noctepanther for helping me out with this thing. He proofread the letter for me, sort of. Thanks!


End file.
